Tula floated over and sat on his lap—well, hovered, really. “I think you definitely increased the odds. That’s for sure.”
“Are you kidding me? Every single immortal is going to have a mate by week’s end. I just know it.”
It had truly been a stroke of genius, uploading the tens of thousands of profiles on to Hot Russian Brides dot com. He was always receiving emails from their matchmakers about how horny and desperate those humans were for love. And most of the ladies were beauties. Any man, immortal or otherwise, would be pleased to have such a bride.
“But, Zac, do you really think these women are willing to mate with a vampire? Or demigod? They aren’t the easiest to get along with, and the women don’t know anything about the immortal world.”
“Did you not read those emails I showed you? They said the women were looking for a commitment and hot sex. Who’s more committed to that than a vampire or an incubus?”
Tula didn’t look so convinced, but Zac was. He knew this was an angle he’d never tried before, and if these women were as gorgeous and desperate as they seemed, there’d be at least five hundred weddings in no time. Then another five hundred. And another.
Just to be safe, though, he would load the army men’s profiles onto Gold Diggers dot com, too. He’d read that most of those ladies were from eastern Europe and wanted marriage immediately “to men of worth.” Their immortal soldiers were the worthiest. And they will appreciate a wife who works hard. Mining for gold was no easy chore.
“Don’t you worry, Tula. All will be set right again in the world by month’s end, and with the gods feeling less stressed out, they can set their energy to helping us.”
“I hope so, Mr. Zac.” Tula popped up from his lap and stared out the window. Several moments later, she began to sob. “I don’t like being dead.”
“Oh, my love.” He got up and pretended to cup her sweet pale cheek. “Don’t you worry. I will fix this, and we will be together. Soon. Very soon.”
She wiped a tear from her eye and sniffled. “Are you sure?”
“As sure as the day I met you and knew that I would get into those giant panties of yours.” Everything would work out because it was destined so. And because he loved everything about Tula. Her sweet demeanor, her ultra-unsexy undergarments, her potato-sack-like frocks.
Tula sniffled, but refused to meet his gaze.
“Now, now. Chin up, my dead little buttercup. Let us depart now for Sedona and break the good news to my brethren. The end of this plague is near.” With so many immortals soon to be mated, the Universe would have to give up and move onto her next hula contest.
“I sure hope you’re right, Mr. Zac, because…”
Tula’s voice changed ever so slightly. An odd fluctuation. “What?”
“No. Never mind.”
“You must tell me, Tula. I am your mate. There can be no secrets between us.”
She looked away, once again gazing out the plate-glass window at the cityscape, seeming more forlorn than ever, which was odd. They were close to winning this war. He’d just told her so!
“Tula?” he urged, wanting more than anything to touch her, hold her, fuck her into the next century.
“I didn’t want to tell you, but…” She exhaled. “I’m fading.”
“What?”
“I’m fading,” she whispered. “My light is weakening.”
He blinked. “What are you talking about?”
Her big blue eyes met his. “My time here with you is almost up. If I don’t get my body back soon, I will have to cross over.”
“Says who?” He refused to believe it.
“Just promise me, Mr. Zac, no matter what happens, you won’t make any more deals with that unicorn. I’d rather end up in Cimil’s basement for all eternity than see you with someone you don’t love and who only wants you for your spectacular body.”
It was true. It was spectacular. His long black hair and tall ripped body were the embodiment of male perfection. However, he couldn’t make such a promise. “Look into my eyes, Tula. I would pledge my soul to Cimil’s naked clown army if it meant saving you. Your beautiful life ended too soon, and if it’s the last thing I do, you will get to breathe again. Even if it’s without me.”
He could tell from Tula’s expression that she did not agree, but hopefully there was still time to convince her to keep living no matter what.
“Come, Tula. The plane is waiting to take us to Sedona.” He turned his head, but Tula was gone.
“Tula? Tula!” She did not reply.
Fuck. He grabbed his laptop and cell and headed out the door. He dialed Cimil’s phone, but Roberto answered.
“Get Cimil on the phone,” Zac commanded.
“Sorry, she is not here.”
“Where is that evil shrew?” he growled.
“Do not talk about my wife like that, and the evil shrew said she had to run some errands.”
“Dammit!” That could mean anything, such as Cimil was out riding Big Foot or time traveling without permission again. Poor dinosaurs. Why did she have to mess with them?
“Roberto, if there is even one tiny cell of compassion in that undead heart of yours, I beg you to convince Cimil to make Minky give Tula back her body. Before it’s too late.”
“I am sorry, brother, but if I’ve learned one thing about my beloved mate, the moment you ask her to do something, she does the opposite. She cannot help herself. It is the way of chaos, and you know how she loves it so.”
“Then…then…tell her to keep us apart! Tell her you hate me and wish to see me suffer without my mate for all eternity!” The signal began to cut out as the elevator doors closed.
“That would be lying—”
The call went dead.
Zac looked at his phone. “You useless fucking pharaoh! I curse you and your children. Who are already cursed.”
That had been a waste of time. Stupid god. Stupid! Sometimes he wished he’d been born as smart as he was beautiful. He should have known that Tula couldn’t remain on this plane of existence forever. Sooner or later, the Universe comes calling and wants its energy back.
If he wanted their story to end happily, he would have to pull out all the stops. I simply hope I am not too late.
“Dammit! Where the fuck is everyone?” Votan, God of Death and Massive Coronaries, pounded on the stone conference table in the great hall. Not one damned god had dialed in to his mandatory Zoom meeting. Did they not understand they were in the middle of a massive plague and needed to connect as a team in order to triumph?
“Yo. Hey, dude.” Votan looked on the giant screen that was supposed to be projecting the faces of his brethren, only to find some wanker wiggling his wanker.
Zoom bomber.
Votan picked up his cell and dialed the chief Uchben, Gabrán. “There’s another one.” Votan listened and nodded. “Yes. He’s showing me his penis.” Votan listened. “Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you.”
Votan ended the call and then the meeting. Well, at least I will derive some satisfaction from knowing that in thirty minutes, this bomber will wish he was never born. Once the Uchben got done with him, he’d never want to see a toilet again. The flush torture is most effective.